It is one thing to deconstruct a film genre, a genre that has reached the level of dynasty, to make it better. It is an entirely different matter to do so merely because you can, to show off your own power, and to leave the genre in tatters. Sam Mendes is incapable of making a film that is not dazzling to the eye. He is a visual artist of the highest calibre and possibly one of the greatest directors living today. Similarly the lead actors are incapable of delivering a performance that is less than stellar given the scripts they are handed. But the praise ends there. This is not a Bond film. This is an anti-Bond film. Notice kind reader that every task Bond is handed in the script ends in failure. Don't shoot the messenger, just watch the film. Notice that at some point Mendes became momentarily self-aware of what he was doing by bringing, out of nowhere, using the magic of film, the Aston Martin DB7 from a half-century ago, fully fuelled and ready to go, with the old Bond theme for accompaniment. But he just couldn't go through with it. The moment (the self-aware moment) passed and he went back to Plan A, the Anti-Bond film, and, in one of the most gratuitous but Freudian moments ever seen, blew the car to bits. Just like he blew the Bond formula to bits. I know what you are thinking. You thinking that an artist has license to do all this if the end result is entertaining and satisfying. True. But this film is as satisfying to the viewer as a car wreck. Visuals aside, it is hollow and leave a strange taste in the palate. Shame.
Review of Skyfall
